


A Healthy Addiction

by ptw30



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Regular Lives, barista!Kuroko, barista!kagami, businessman!Akashi, coffee shop AU, cop!aomine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: Obligatory coffee shop AU where Kuroko is a sazzy barista who uses Akashi as a guinea pig for all his new cocotions and Akashi is a businessman who needs something sweet in his life.





	1. Stage One - Experimentation

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick 7k fic I wrote for last year's Akakuro Valentine's Day Exchange. It was an extra story just in case someone didn't get a gift, and since everyone got a gift, I didn't post it. Well, since Valentine's Day is back - here's the fic! I'm hoping to get the whole thing up pretty quickly. 
> 
> Thanks!

Seijuro wouldn’t call himself an addict. It wasn’t true. He could go without his morning, mid-afternoon, and evening lattes. He just chose not to, and if on any morning he chose not to, it was today. 

After being on the phone for fifteen minutes, pacing outside his local coffee shop, Seijuro finally entered the shop’s queue to get his Caffé Mocha (no whip, whole milk, to-go stopper in place). An inescapable exhaustion settled deep within his bones, leaving him feeling ragged and languid despite his always impeccable appearance and calm demeanor. It was another day, just like the one before it and just like the one that would come after. And so he continued onward as he had since he was ten, simply existing on this day and trying to focus on work rather than the lingering melancholy that seized his heart. 

Less than a minute passed before Seijuro heard the gentle voice beckon over the throngs of people, “Akashi-sama.”’

He glanced up from the email he was reading to see there were still five people between him and the register, yet a cup waited at the very end of the bar. When no one stepped forward to claim the drink, he broke from the line to see the name. Yes, his was on the side of the red, black, and white cup. 

“On the house,” that gentle voice called again, and Seijuro glanced over the counter. He needed to blink twice to focus upon the young barista, a slight boy with pale blue hair, a black cap, and a black apron over a red and white coffee shop shirt. 

Seijuro sniffed the tiny opening in the coffee cup’s cap before placing it back upon the counter. “This is not my drink.”

The boy’s face offered a sweet but tolerant smile, as if to say, _Only you would complain over a free drink, Akashi-sama._

“No, Akashi-sama’s drink is a large Caffé Mocha, no whip, whole milk, to-go stopper in place, so you can drink it once you get the office and not fear it will ruin your Mercedes’s interior on the way.”

While Seijuro should probably be questioning how this barista knew which car he drove, he was more intrigued by the blunt and toneless voice that dared to antagonize him. An unconscious smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he stepped forward, the barista already working on another drink as he replied, “Try the drink I made you, Akashi-sama, and if you do not like it, then I will make your usual—on me, of course.”

Seijuro decided not to tease the barista on his choice of words—he was a gentleman, after all—and indulged with a sip. His mouth immediately exploded with smooth chocolate goodness. The drink wasn’t too sweet or too creamy. In fact, it tasted like a Caffé Mocha with a hint of strawberry or maybe cherry flavoring, along with just the right amount of foam on top. 

Perhaps the best feature of the new drink was the sprinkles, cheerfully swimming upon the foam; Seijuro could see them through the tiny cap’s slit. 

“I’m glad Akashi-sama likes his drink,” the barista mused, placing another two drinks upon the counter and calling out the respective names. “Perhaps he will say hi tomorrow morning rather than just muttering his drink order in between keystrokes.”

Hm. A sassy one. Seijuro was a sucker for sass and leaned forward to read the barista’s nametag. “Perhaps if _Tetsuya_ greeted me every morning—”

“I do greet you every morning, and during your mid-afternoon coffee break every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday,” Tetsuya replied, distracted. “Akashi-sama is just rude.”

“And isn’t it rude to call me ‘Akashi-sama’? I’m not your boss, Tetsuya.”

Seijuro ignored the heat that burned his cheeks when Tetsuya gave him a quick once-over. “Pressed suit with vest, straight tie, foreboding aura—Akashi-sama is definitely a sama.”

He was, after all, though Tetsuya didn’t seem to know the true height of Seijuro’s position in his father’s international conglomerate. Instead, Tetsuya seemed to take him at face-value and nothing but that, though that piercing gaze—redirected from the espresso machine every few seconds—seemed to cut right through Seijuro’s confident demeanor straight to his soul. 

Seijuro couldn’t help but wonder what Tetsuya saw, and for that reason alone, he relented, bowing gracefully. “My apologies for my rudeness, Tetsuya- _san_. Good morning.”

Tetsuya returned the greeting with a blank expression, but Seijuro saw the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Good morning, Akashi-sama.”

Seijuro glanced at his cup again, checking for more of the elegant writing in blue marker. “I do believe you forgot to place something on my cup.”

“Oh? Akashi-sama wants my digits? He’s going to have earn those.” 

“Hm.” Seijuro nodded to himself and took a sip of his new favorite drink, and as he walked out of the shop that morning, he couldn’t help but feel lighter, excited even, and perhaps today, he didn’t just exist. He lived. 

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Stage Two - Regular Use

Seijuro relented if only to himself. Perhaps he had a healthy addiction—caffeine was a legal stimulant, after all—but he wasn’t entirely sure it was the espresso that brought him back to the coffee shop every morning and early afternoon. (Sometimes, he skipped the evening shift as a rather gruff redhead worked the counter, and he just wasn’t as cute as his morning counterpart.)

Tetsuya greeted him with a non-existent smile, though Seijuro saw the sparkle of mischief that made Seijuro any drink but a Caffé Mocha. Tetsuya always added something to it, creating a new latte for Seijuro to indulge, and Seijuro began to believe that the blatant flirting was Tetsuya’s way of making the businessman into his personal latte guinea pig. 

Seijuro voiced his wondering concern one morning, surprising an unusual noise from Tetsuya. A soft laugh. He made Tetsuya laugh, a feat that seemed impossible before, since the slightly younger barista seemed to only find amusement in cheeky smirks and the occasional bright smile that lit up his pale face. Leaning against the counter, Seijuro reveled in his victory, but then Tetsuya captured a victory for himself. 

“What does it matter if Akashi-sama is my test subject? He must enjoy his lattes if he continues to come into my shop.”

“I believe I like the term guinea pig better than test subject.” Seijuro started a moment later, his usual calm demeanor lost as Tetsuya’s words finally sunk in. “Tetsuya…this is your coffee shop?”

Tetsuya nodded then. “Yes, mine and Kagami-kun’s. He’s the night manager you avoid.”

How was it even possible that Tetsuya and his loud-mouthed friend owned a coffee shop? Seijuro’s favorite barista looked barely twenty, and even if he was slightly older, how could he have possibly saved enough money to start his own business?

As it was mid-afternoon on a Thursday—Seijuro had a late meeting that night and decided to take an hour off to enjoy lunch for once—customers spotted the coffee shop but barely took Tetsuya’s attention away from Seijuro, who occupied a stool at the counter. 

Tetsuya wiped his hands on the towel tucked into his apron tie and came to lean against the counter with a lazy shrug. “Perhaps neither Kagami-kun nor I are the heir to an international conglomerate or have been seen recently with a certain big-chested model with peach hair, but we both decided to work tirelessly after our high school graduation and saved to open our own shop. We succeeded a little more than two years ago and have been shamelessly extorting money from the societal elite ever since.”

So Tetsuya did know who he was and was even jealous of Momoi Satsuki, the famous lingerie model with whom Seijuro had shared a magazine spread last week.

“That’s very admirable,” Seijuro consented with a smile, dipping his cup in reverence, “but I’m surprised you haven’t learned giving away free lattes will not help you grow your business.” 

Tetsuya blinked. “Akashi-sama looked so sad that day, but then when you left, you looked…elated. Relieved. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to open a coffee shop. Coffee makes people feel better. It gives them energy to face their problems and comfort when they can’t.” 

It wasn’t the coffee that made Seijuro feel better that day, but he didn’t tell Tetsuya that. Instead, he sobered a bit after taking another sip of his drink. “That was the anniversary of my mother’s death. She died more than ten years ago, but I miss her terribly.”

Tetsuya’s eyes trembled then, and though Seijuro could read the shop owner’s emotions now, despite Tetsuya’s usually closed expression, there was no doubt Tetsuya let all his walls crumble to show Seijuro his unending compassion.

“Seijuro, I—I’m so sorry to hear of your loss.”

A wistful smile crossed Seijuro’s features. “Thank you. She was a kind soul, and my father and I love her deeply. I think—she made him human.”

Tetsuya returned it, but it was sweet and gentle, reminding Seijuro of the warmth he’d been missing for quite some time. “I think you make him human.”

Seijuro couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped through his lips. “I wonder sometimes if I’m too much like him. He—He is not a kind man, and he tolerates very little that does not fit into the mold that he created—”

The lips that pressed against his were chilled, most likely from that vanilla frappe Tetsuya always had at his fingertips, but they reminded Seijuro of a refreshing dip in a cool lake or a caress from winter’s own touch. But the embrace lasted just long enough for Seijuro to register that yes, Tetsuya was kissing him, before Tetsuya pulled away and dropped a fresh latte in front of Seijuro for his late-afternoon cravings. 

“You could just as easily spend your lunch hour scolding some hapless employee, and instead, you spend it flirting with your friendly-neighborhood entrepreneur-barista. I believe that makes you the most human person I know, Akashi-sama. And my business partner and best friend is more than six feet tall and is afraid of puppies, so you know I speak the truth.” 

He’d made Tetsuya laugh, received another free drink, and enjoyed a very chaste first kiss, but despite his rather productive afternoon—Seijuro was unbelievably disappointed when he saw the cup still had no digits. 

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Stage Three: Abuse/Risky Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry so short. Next chapter should be a tad be longer.

It was a legitimate excuse, Seijuro told himself, not some hopeless attempt to score Tetsuya’s digits, but he always visited Tetsuya at work. It only seemed fair that Tetsuya visited him at work, or so Seijuro told Tetsuya over their morning cup one day. Tetsuya, being the sassy barista that he was, showed up that very afternoon. He wore a presentable polo shirt and jeans with a leather jacket, holding a cup of his special brew. 

When Seijuro came down in his stylish suit, he felt his heart flutter in such an annoyingly fond manner at the dashing sight that greeted him. No doubt—Tetsuya cleaned up well. He didn’t even have hat hair, and he smelled more like vanilla cologne than vanilla frappes. 

“Please pardon the intrusion, Akashi-sama,” Tetsuya said with a respectable bow just by the security counter. 

Seijuro smiled and returned it briefly. “You are a guest, Tetsuya, and you are welcome. Come. Let me show you around.”

The Akashi Northern Headquarters in Shinjuku shimmered of opulence with floor-to-ceiling windows along every corridor, sparkling accents, and breathtaking art upon the walls. Tetsuya seemed to enjoy spotting and ingesting each one, commenting about the colors and texture of the paintings, and Seijuro found himself impressed with the extensive level of knowledge Tetsuya held for the subject. 

Tetsuya met Seijuro’s wonderment with a small shrug and a pale tinge to his cheeks. “Just because I run a coffee shop doesn’t mean I’m not learned, Akashi-sama.”

Perhaps that was what Seijuro liked most about Tetsuya. He was full of surprises, and Seijuro couldn’t wait to find out all the parts that made up…Tetsuya. Hm. He didn’t even know Tetsuya’s last name. 

Finally, Seijuro led Tetsuya into a large open area bathed in natural light and adorned with a lush garden. Vibrant greens and deep red and pinks created a sanctuary away from the world of computers and files and email, and many employees simply walked the calming trails or lingered upon the benches. As they passed one particular couple, their heads whipped around to follow Seijuro and Tetsuya, and Tetsuya furled an eyebrow. 

“Are they shocked to see you smiling or shocked to see you with someone?”

Seijuro laughed softly, fingers brushing against Tetsuya’s as they ambled aimlessly about the garden. “Perhaps both.”

Tetsuya’s fingers folded with Seijuro’s, cool and soothing. “Then perhaps we should give them something truly remarkable to gawk at.”

He leaned forward, free hand coming up to brush Seijuro’s cheek encouragingly. Tetsuya’s eyes sparkled with affection and a tad bit of mischief, but Seijuro loved how Tetsuya kept him on his toes. He, too, leaned forward, eyes starting to close as he tipped his head to the side to capture those plush, pale lips when Tetsuya’s hand dropped from his cheek and scooped up his coffee cup, taking a sip, so Seijuro ended up kissing the edge of the cap. 

“I do make good lattes, don’t I? It’s like a delectable kiss in Akashi-sama’s mouth with every sip.” 

He said he liked sass, didn’t he? “You know, Momoi-san would kiss me if I asked her.”

“But you won’t ask her, will you, Akashi-sama?” Tetsuya took another sip, finishing off the coffee and glancing about the garden. “I do not wish to lose my best customer, but do you know what this place needs? A coffee shop.”

Seijuro seized those lips for himself in a searing embrace, one that melted the cool Tetsuya against Seijuro’s warm body, and when they finally parted, Tetsuya’s eyes fluttered and his lips remained slack. 

“Hm…no need,” Seijuro teased, running his fingertips along Tetsuya’s jaw. “I think I’ve found something more stimulating than caffeine.”

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Stage Four: Dependency

Seijuro began bringing his work lunches to the coffee shop, ordering the fantastic specialties that Taiga put together and enjoying the show. Tetsuya fluttered between tables, refilling the empty cups and dropping off pastries and sandwiches. He shot a smile at Seijuro every time he passed and refilled his cup without saying a word, eyes dancing over the three occupants at the table. 

Seijuro’s eyes lingered upon Tetsuya’s tight backside a little too long when Tetsuya bent down to clean a spilled coffee. A gruff laugh sounded from across the table. 

“Hm. You done with that yet, Sei? Because I’m not opposed to sloppy seconds. ”

That crass phrasing tore Seijuro from his delighted trance, and he blinked, grabbing his coffee cup to sip. “Excuse me, Haizaki-san? Please keep your comments directed toward business.”

“Yes, your offensive remarks will not tolerated,” the third person at the table chastised, “and if I ever hear a remark like that again from you, it will be the last you make working for my company. Do you understand—”

Before Masaomi finished his sentence, a large hand fisted in the back of Haizaki’s shirt and jerked him to his feet. 

“Aomine-kun!” Tetsuya’s voice sounded over the busy café, turning almost all heads to see a needlessly tall police officer dragging the struggled and sputtering Haizaki toward the door. 

The officer ejected the stylishly dressed businessman from the café, Daiki’s face chiseled with barely restrained anger as he shouted, “You don’t come back here. Understand? Or I’ll make sure you don’t.”

“Aomine-kun!” Tetsuya admonished as Office Aomine growled at the café, “As you were.”

“Aho!” Taiga, too, yelled as he came up behind the counter. “You can’t go throwing out paying customers like that!”

But Daiki ignored him to stomp over to the Akashis’ table, all six-foot-three muscle and attitude, and glared down at the two businessman. “You speak one more word about Tetsu, and I will make sure it’s the last word you ever speak. Got it?”

Seijuro glanced down at his latte and then back at the furious officer. “He never gets my order right. I ordered a Caffé Mocha, and this is not a Caffé Mocha.”

Daiki looked like he was ready to punch Seijuro when Tetsuya grabbed his hand. “Aomine-kun, Akashi-sama is just teasing. I make him different drinks every time he comes in. He’s my personal guinea pig. Now go sit down before Kagami-kun throws you out, too.” 

“But Tetsu—”

“Go!” Tetsuya pushed the officer toward the counter, where Kagami waited, arms crossed, face disapproving before Tetsuya bowed to the two Akashis. “My apologies for the intrusion. I’ve known Aomine-kun since middle school, and he’s very protective.”

“No,” Masaomi replied sharply. “What Haizaki said was inappropriate. We apologize for his deplorable behavior. Please, join us.”

“Father, Tetsuya is quite busy,” Seijuro interjected, “and we should probably be getting back to the—”

Tetsuya motioned for Furihata, one of his servers, to come over, and he placed his order pad and hat upon the tray. Ruffling his wayward strands as he sat, Tetsuya somehow made his hat-hair presentable. 

“Thank you for the offer and your continued patronage, Akashi-san and Akashi-sama.”

Masaomi took a sip of his coffee and made a noise of enjoyment. “Seijuro brought me one of your lattes earlier this week. I didn’t dislike it.”

“Thank you, Akashi-san. Perhaps if you keep coming, we’ll find a latte you like.”

 _And miracles exist,_ Seijuro thought. Tetsuya didn’t understand the high praise “didn’t dislike” was from Masaomi. 

“It is impressive that you own your own business at…twenty?”

“Twenty-three,” Tetsuya amended. 

Seijuro glimpsed Tetsuya. They were the same age? But Tetsuya looked so much younger. 

“Well, I guess that is still admirable,” Masaomi mused while Tetsuya accepted a vanilla latte from Furihata. “Do you plan to add shops to your portfolio? Perhaps take your brand internat—”

“No,” Tetsuya said, serious. “Kagami-kun and I have discussed opening a second location, but we’re coffee shop owners, not international businessmen. I believe that is your profession, Akashi-san.”

Masaomi’s eyes narrowed. “Then what are your intentions for this place?”

Tetsuya brightened and spoke with that gentle smile of pleasure. “To serve affordable, gourmet, and innovative lattes—and to create a friendly shop where people can meet and connect.”

“That’s all?”

“Father—” Seijuro put down his cup, but Tetsuya interrupted, “Yes. I only seek to earn a modest living for myself and Kagami-kun, and our future families. I’m sure that’s what Akashi-san wishes for himself and his son.”

Modest? Seijuro almost scoffed, but Masaomi seemed to finish his assessment—and his latte. “I believe you were right, Seijuro. It’s past time we return to the office.” He stood then, forgoing the bow to glare down at Tetsuya. “Tetsuya-kun, thank you for the latte, but I would appreciate if you would not distract my son. He has a duty to give our business his entire attention as well as to marry someone who will aid in our ventures—” 

His father was ending his relationship with Tetsuya before it even began? Seijuro knew his father was going to have to approve of the person he chose, but he hadn’t even chose Tetsuya yet. They hadn’t even been on a real date. He didn’t even have Tetsuya’s cell number. 

“I would appreciate it if Akashi-sama would not distract _me_ ,” Tetsuya interjected in a blank voice was actually quite furious. “I have a shop to run and international businessmen such as yourself to fuel, and Akashi-sama comes in every morning and afternoon in his pressed suit with his perfect hair and sparkling eyes and adorably subdued smile. It’s very distracting and puts my business in jeopardy.”

Something in Masaomi’s expression changed, and Seijuro couldn’t quite place what it was. “He gets that from his mother. She, too, used to distract me at business dinners and charity functions. It was…exasperating.”

“You married her in order to gain immunity.”

“Of course it didn’t work,” Masaomi replied, looking very tired for perhaps the first time since Seijuro was twelve, and they’d just lost their souls. “I couldn’t catch my breath for years.”

Seijuro had never heard his father speak like this about his mother. In fact, his father hadn’t spoken about his mother since that day all those years ago. 

Masaomi scrutinized Tetsuya once more, eyes taking in the disheveled hair, blank expression, and shimmering eyes. Tetsuya accepted the evaluation silently, blinking, waiting, and then Masaomi’s eyes swung toward Seijuro, who was used to the dissection. He placed an encouraging hand on Seijuro’s shoulder, though he didn’t smile. He never smiled, but his face might have brightened. 

“We do need to get back to the office, Seijuro. Grab us two lattes for the afternoon before you return.”

He approved. His father approved of Tetsuya. “Yes. Thank you, Father.”

With a brief nod of acknowledgement, Masaomi headed out while Seijuro turned to Tetsuya, who smacked him in the side with this towel. “It’s the middle of the lunch rush, and you felt now was the best time to bring your father?”

No, it actually wasn’t his idea. His father suggested they bring their business associate Haizaki to “that place you waste your lunch hour visiting.”

His father knew of his affection for Tetsuya and wanted to either approve or end it. And he approved of Tetsuya, a coffee shop owner-slash-barista. 

“Of course he did,” Tetsuya insisted, as if hearing Seijuro’s thoughts. “His son is very special to me, and to him, that’s what’s most important.”

Seijuro wondered what Tetsuya put in his father’s latte. “My father only cares about furthering his business portfolio.”

Retreating behind the counter to make the lattes, Tetsuya replied, “If that were true, he wouldn’t have come here, Akashi-sama. He would have simply foreclosed on my business.”

Seijuro studied Tetsuya’s elegant form and his averted eyes. “Tetsuya, my father may be powerful, but he cannot foreclose on businesses he does not finance.”

“Yes, that is true.”

Which meant Tetsuya had gone through one of Akashi’s banks to get financing for the shop. 

Akashi was Tetsuya’s boss in a way.

Tetsuya, however, simply put two lattes on the counter before pushing up and pecking Seijuro on the lips. 

“Have a good afternoon at the office, Akashi-sama.”

Daiki, sitting a few stools down, tched and bit into his chocolate doughnut. 

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I by accidently wrote plot. My bad.

After a long, hard afternoon—those stubborn New Yorkers hated getting up early to do conference calls and seemed to take it out on Seijuro—he decided to swing past the coffeehouse. Tetsuya said Taiga closed the shop at night, but perhaps Seijuro’s favorite barista was still there, helping to clean up. The sidewalk was packed at this time at night, littered with people in a hurry to get home, including a pointlessly tall police officer who entered the shop a good twenty steps in front of Seijuro. So apparently, he wasn’t the only one who stopped by the café more than once a day. 

Seijuro saw Tetsuya through the window. He smiled a tiny grin when Daiki ruffled his hair before he shut off the open sign and locking the door. No matter, Tetsuya would let him in the moment he knocked. 

But Tetsuya hurried behind the counter, wiping off a table on the way and then disappearing behind the coffee machine. Though Seijuro couldn’t see _him_ , he could see Daiki, sitting on a stool at the counter. He could see the private smile Daiki offered Tetsuya, followed by a righteous glare, and then a deep blush. He could see Daiki lean over the counter, eyes closed, savoring the taste of another’s lips. 

Seijuro blinked, shocked by his suddenly blurred vision, hand shuddering as he wiped the wetness slipping down his cheeks. His chest ached something fierce as he fought to catch his breath. 

As he saw movement behind the counter, Seijuro took a step back, then another, until he vanished into the crowded streets of Shinjuku. 

*^*^*

“You’re cheating on me?” 

Seijuro jerked in mid-sip, almost spilling his latte all over his business suit, and when he turned, Tetsuya stood in the middle of the sidewalk. He was almost hit a few times by passersby who didn’t see him, though he stood out like a beacon to Seijuro, even wearing his coffee shop shirt (without the hat). 

Tetsuya’s eyes zeroed in on the fancy brand coffee cup in Seijuro’s hands before lifting to glare with cruel reproach. 

Seijuro narrowed his eyes—loathing how much the action reminded him of his father—and trained his voice to remain firm, toneless. “I believe that is my line, Tetsuya-san.”

“Eh?” Tetsuya blinked, obviously taken off guard. “I haven’t used another person as a guinea pig, Akashi-sama. I give everyone else the drink they order.”

 _And you give another your heart._

“It’s been over a week since you’ve been in the shop, Akashi-sama. I checked the papers. I even went to your company’s website to see the latest press releases. I worried over you, and now I see you’ve just decided to stop by another shop.” 

Seijuro was done with Tetsuya’s innocent, coffee shop barista act and let out an exasperated sigh. “We aren’t dating, Tetsuya. I owe you no explanations, just as you owe me none. I enjoyed our little exchanges. I admit that, but I cannot be distracted from the business any longer.”

“Akashi-sama is lying.”

Seijuro stiffened. No one called him a liar before, and very few people spoke to him in such a brash tone. But that was what he liked Tetsuya. He was different from everyone else, and while Seijuro believed that maybe Tetsuya had affection for him—Tetsuya did meet Seijuro’s father after all—he loved others or at least that officer. And while Seijuro had money, good looks, and a prestigious job—wait, why didn’t Tetsuya love only him again?—he wouldn’t be able to break the bonds of a childhood love. And he accepted that. 

“Akashi-sama is an idiot,” Tetsuya spouted again, “and he shouldn’t have strung me along if he wasn’t interested.”

Interested? Of course he was interested. He had never felt this way about anyone. In fact, he wasn’t sure his heart ever trembled as violently as it did when he saw Tetsuya. 

“Did you return the flirting because you wanted to annoy your father, and you thought a simple barista would do the trick?”

No. Unfortunately, the mental image of Tetsuya in apron and _only_ an apron flashed through his mind more than once a day, and every time, he had to ask someone to repeat themselves. Once, he had to ask his assistant four times what time his meeting with legal was. 

He loved that about Tetsuya. 

He loved Tetsuya. 

“Perhaps once Akashi-sama realizes that the so-called ‘distractions’ are actually the highlights of his day, he’ll come back to my coffee shop.” Tetsuya stomped forward then, and so close, Akashi could smell the mesmerizing vanilla cologne and a hint of coffee beans. He wanted to bury his face in Tetsuya’s neck and just inhale, wrapped in the glorious scent that was Tetsuya—and his favorite legal stimulant. 

But then Tetsuya pulled away with a scrunched noise and an abhorrent glare. “You went to Starbucks? Seriously? If you were going to cheat on me, I’d at least expect something a little more original or gourmet. But Starbucks!”

He sounded hysterical now, or at least as hysterical as Tetsuya ever could be, before storming off toward his own shop. 

Seijuro hated himself all over again because he had actually stepped forward to follow Tetsuya. 

_To Be Continued..._


	6. Withdrawal

Masaomi’s face scrunched in a horrible grimace when he took a sip of the coffee, and Seijuro might have laughed at his father’s discomfort—Masaomi didn’t show his emotions unless they were disappointment and embitterment—if he didn’t know what was coming next. 

“Seijuro, you are above such base maneuvers. You will gain nothing by running away, and it is unbecoming of our family to admit defeat.”

Seijro stood to the left his father’s desk, hands balled at his sides before he glanced out over the dark landscape of Shinjuku. “We need someone in the New York office to finish the transaction, and you have spoken of your displeasure to travel halfway around the world to complete an already negotiated contract. I thought you would be grateful for my offer.”

“I would be if it were for more altruistic reasons.”

“I fail to see how my reasons are of any concern to you, Father,” Seijuro interjected, not unkindly. “You need one of your top advisors to travel to New York. I volunteered. There is nothing more you need to know or care about.”

There was a frustrated silence before Masaomi, uncharacteristically, relented. “If you are sure that you wish to be away from Tokyo for that length of time, I will not stop you. However, do think about the unfortunate ramifications before you make your decision.”

“Unfortunate?” Seijuro echoed. 

Masaomi’s eyes sparkled, and a part of Seijuro was jealous and yet grateful that Tetsuya had made such an impact upon his father. Before, his father had never been so open about his emotions, especially with Seijuro. 

“Yes, Seijuro. Unfortunate. I very much enjoyed Tetsuya’s lattes. He always made my order perfectly, and you know I like to keep the employees who impress me.”

“Is that all I am to you, Father?” Seijuro asked, his own voice tempered by sorrow. “Another employee?”

“Don’t be absurd, Seijuro,” his father dismissed without his usual expression of disdain and stood, buttoning his jacket. “If you were just any employee, I would have fired you for not completing your contract with Tetsuya. Despite his lack of breeding, he seemed to care about you greatly and provided a much-needed distraction for you.”

“I thought you loathed distractions.”

“The ones that are not vital to our business, yes, but Tetsuya’s distractions were necessary.” His father didn’t smile. His father never smiled, but something in his eyes seemed reminiscent, perhaps even poignant. “Your mother came into my life during a time when I was finishing college and starting my work for this company. Despite my training, nothing prepared me for the difficulties that would come, the decisions that would need to made to keep it flourishing, but your mother—she helped in ways I cannot adequately describe. Perhaps it was because of her that I was able to keep sane.” 

“But you chose Mother because she was of the elite classes. Wasn’t she the daughter of—”

“I implied things, Seijuro,” his father said, plaintive and exhausted. “I told you we met at a cocktail party, which was true, but your mother was a waitress. I wanted you to believe she was from money and prestigious, so you would marry in kind. And I guess, in a way, you have.”

“Tetsuya is dating someone else,” Seijuro blurted, uncertain why he had. His biggest failure in the whole world—he wasn’t able to _win_ Tetsuya—and he just told his father without any pretense or explanation. “I saw him kissing someone else, and—”

“You admitted defeat,” Masaomi proclaimed, that familiar disappointed tone returning to his voice. “Seijuro, there is no defeat to an Akashi. Only a new strategy to be executed, a new avenue to victory. If you truly value and desire Tetsuya, then you need to find a way to win his heart.”

“I cannot make someone love me, Father.”

“No, that is true, but how do you know he doesn’t?”

Seijuro listened to his father’s words but boarded a plane to New York the next day. Two months away wasn’t that long of a time, as his father seemed to predict, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. He passed Tetsuya’s coffee shop on the way to the airport, and though he briefly thought about entering, Officer Aomine sat at the counter, a challenging grin upon his scowling face as he smiled at someone behind the espresso machine. 

No, Tetsuya had made his decision, and perhaps that was what hurt the most. Seijuro wasn’t even sure he was ever in the running. 

But then why did Tetsuya greet him that day? Why did he continue to flirt with him and even meet his father? Why would Tetsuya go through all that trouble? Just to humiliate Seijuro? That made even less sense. Though he saw no motive behind Tetsuya’s betrayal, he saw no motive behind his fascination, and so he slept most of the way to New York. 

The two months did little for Seijuro’s symptoms. Every coffee shop he passed made his heart twinge. Every flash of light hair made his eyes widen, and when he entered Starbucks for his morning coffee, he couldn’t help but think of Tetsuya’s apron and subdued smile, greeting him every time (and ushering him to the front of the line).

But now he simply sipped on bland Caffé Mochas, wondering how this was ever his favorite drink, and continued onward to sign papers and meet with officials. 

He met up with Momoi Satsuki during New York Fashion Week, and Seijuro actually considered her luscious lips and ample bosom. Yet he declined her offer of a drink in her hotel suite. He wasn’t sure how to get over Tetsuya, but he knew a night with Momoi was not it. 

_To Be Concluded..._


	7. Relapse

Seijuro returned to Tokyo even more distraught than when he left, the stinging ache of yet another failure now tormenting him. He couldn’t win Tetsuya’s heart, and now he couldn’t forget him. What a precarious position to be in. 

The red, black, and white coffee cups that littered the Akashi Shinjuku headquarters only added his inner turmoil. It was like the universe decided to play a cosmic joke upon him, and every employee of the building had found and subsequently frequented Tetsuya’s coffee shop. He was about to send a memo mandating employees must drink their coffee at their desks and only at their desks when his secretary knocked on his door and offered to grab him a Caffé Mocha from “downstairs.”

“Downstairs?” he repeated, bewildered. 

“Yes, downstairs. The new coffee shop opened in the garden while you were away. You should try it, Akashi-sama. The lattes are quite good.”

Hadn’t Tetsuya suggested a coffee shop in the garden as another perk for their employees? 

“I think I need a distraction,” Seijuro replied, getting to his feet. “Allow me.”

She bowed and returned to her desk as he hurried down the corridor, into the elevator, and into the bright and inviting garden. In the corner, the new coffee “shop” sat, though it was more of a pop-up eatery with a few tables in front of the alcove counter and machines. A handful of employees fluttered around, serving pastries and drinks while a pair worked in tandem behind the counter taking order and making lattes. The barista at the end put down a coffee the moment Seijuro stepped into the line and called, “Akashi-sama.”

Tetsuya. 

Seijuro’s heart beat in an unsteady staccato as he walked forward, his feet so heavy and cumbersome he needed to take each step with care. He felt like he was in a trance as he took the warm cup in his hands and brought it to his lips, only to be assaulted by a unique taste—a Caffé Mocha mixed with citrus and vanilla flavors—and he all but spit-taked. But he couldn’t, not in the employee garden surrounded by all his subordinates. Instead, he swallowed and gasped, “This is disgusting.”

“I’m out of practice,” Tetsuya replied playfully. “Please forgive me, Akashi-sama.”

Seijuro placed the cup down on the counter, seeing Tetsuya just beyond it in his adorable apron and cap, splitting his attention between Seijuro and the steamer. 

“Perhaps Akashi-sama would like a chocolate-covered raspberry instead?”

“What are you doing here, Tetsuya?” Seijuro rasped, still gagging over the horrible coffee he’d just tasted. 

“Akashi-san said you’d mentioned opening a coffee shop here and asked if I would like to do a test run for a couple of weeks. We’ve been here six,” Tetsuya proclaimed with a smile, “and we’re making more here than at our usual spot.”

Seijuro grabbed the coffee again, lifting it up to his mouth again, but stopped short of drinking. “Tetsuya, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Because you cheated on me with Starbucks?” Tetsuya teased, that serene smile finding his face again as he placed an array drinks upon the counter, not one of them for Seijuro. “I forgive you.”

“But I don’t forgive you.” Seijuro finally let go out of his tightly reigned control. “I saw you kissing Aomine, and—”

The metal canister clanged off the espresso machine and spilled out milk across the tiled ground. Once Tetsuya ensured no one was hurt by the boiling milk, he swung toward Seijuro. “Aomine-kun? I’ve never—I would never—”

Seijuro’s heart clenched. “Tetsuya, you don’t have to make excuses. We’re not together. You—”

“Seijuro-kun, I would never—he’s one of my best friends!” 

“I’m not here to judge, Tetsuya. I just—”

“Seijuro-kun, Aomine-kun’s dating Kagami-kun,” he said now, breathing deeply, eyes frantic and voice strained. “They’ve been together for almost two years, and they’d annoyingly dancing around each other since high school.”

So the person who Daiki kissed wasn’t Tetsuya…but Taiga? 

Tetsuya sighed, a fond, indulgent smile twisting onto his lips. “Seijuro-kun is an idiot to think me and Aomine-kun would ever—”

When those blue eyes set up on him again, Seijuro allowed himself the pleasure of Tetsuya’s surprised gasp as he leaned over the counter and seized those lips. He didn’t care that his employees were watching, gaping. Even a few clapped, but he only belatedly heard them as he held Tetsuya’s warm cheeks between his hands and pressed against that soft mouth. 

He savored the vanilla taste of Tetsuya’s last latte and the overwhelming scent of espresso, and when he finally let go of Tetsuya’s lips, his eyes half-lidded and dazed, Tetsuya dragged him back down for a deep embrace until someone online began to complain that they were going to be late for a meeting. 

“Business types, always pushy,” Tetsuya muttered, and after quickly sopping up the milk, he placed a new drink down for Seijuro to enjoy. 

“I’ll stop by later,” Seijuro said, still breathless, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever be able to catch his breath again. 

Tetsuya smiled, bright and beautiful. “Call me.”

On the cup were his digits. 

_Omake:_

The alarm always blared piercingly too early in the morning, but Tetsuya calmed Seijuro back to sleep with a few brushes of his hair and a tender kiss upon his forehead. 

By the time Seijuro rose, showered, and wrapped a towel around his waist, Tetsuya was already walking out of the kitchen, dressed in his shirt and jacket, holding his apron and hat. Seijuro snagged him by the waist and pressed a savoring kiss to Tetsuya’s lips, smiling to himself when Tetsuya all but melted against him. 

Tetsuya brushed the tips of his fingers along Seijuro’s torso and whispered against his lips, “I made you some coffee.”

“Thanks,” Seijuro whispered. “So I’ll see you at work.”

“Y’know, I will deliver to your office if you want, say around 12:30.”

“Hm…I’ll look forward to it.”

Tetsuya left then with a fleeting kiss, and Seijuro was still smiling when he entered the kitchen to find the warm mug on the counter. He took a quick sip and immediately spat it out. 

Tetsuya had made him instant coffee.

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind notes! I hope you enjoyed this full fest. :) Happy Self-Awareness/Valentine's Day to you!


End file.
